Journeys

Monday, June 19, 2017

Talk about a stressful day of driving. It was a whole 40 miles from
Muncho to Liard. Checkout was at 11 a.m. and check-in was supposed
to be 1 p.m. so we had all of two hours to make the trip. We spent some time at an overlook where we got our last view of lovely Muncho Lake.

The stone sheep were in hiding today, but there was one lone bison posing at the side of the road.

We got to the campground at Liard early, but they let us in anyway,

so we got set up and then went to boil
ourselves in the hot spring. We learned that the boiling hot water
floats on the top so if we stirred the water, the cool water would
well up, which made it much more tolerable. We floated until none of
us could stand it any more, went back to our rigs and had naps,
dinner and then went to bubble again. There were signs warning us of
wild animals, but they were all in hiding.

Day 11 – Liard – Watson Lake – Rancheria

Today was the day Gerry has waited for since our last road trip up
here. We posted our sign in the Watson Lake sign forest. During the
construction of the Alaska highway, Watson Lake was one of the
construction camps. Homesick soldiers posted mile signs to their
home towns. Somehow, as time went on, it became a tradition that
people passing through Watson Lake would nail up a sign about their
names or home towns. Now there are acres of signs like a maze. We
found a good spot very close to the entrance to the forest and Gerry
proudly fastened our sign to the post for all to see for years to
come.

Gerry wants it known that the sign is near the big green machine, which looks to be a landmark for years to come.

We also went to the planetarium show about the northern lights. Beautiful photgraphy, and I am pretty sure it's the only way we'll
ever see the lights. Certainly they won't be visible any time during
this trip, since even at this latitude it never gets fully dark.
It's twilight at 3 in the morning and bright enough to be really
annoying by 4:00.

Our night's stop is the Rancheria, the place where we broke down on
our last trip up here and had excellent pie while waiting for the
tractor-trailer to take the motorhome to Whitehorse. I'm happy to
say that the pie is still excellent.

Day 12 – Rancheria to to Whitehorse

It was a beautiful blue sky day for driving. In the distance we
could see the spectacular Dawson Mountains, all covered with snow.
These are the views we've been looking for! We stopped at the
overlook for Teslin to get a photo of the the Nisutlin Bay and the
metal bridge crossing it.

We got into Whitehorse in the middle of the afternoon. The first
touristy spot was the Transportation Museum that covers everything
from dog sleds to airplanes, including the DC-3 mounted on a pedestal
that is so perfectly balanced that the slightest breeze turns it
without a sound. I think it's Gerry's favorite thing of all on this
trip.

Dinner was at the Ribs and Salmon place in town, which still has the
best ever fish and chips and bread pudding.

Day 13 – Whitehorse

We were going to do all sorts of things today, but then we decided to
do non-exciting things like go grocery shopping in the Real Canadian
grocery, where we had to be taught how to retrieve a shopping cart.
You put a dollar coin, called a loonie, in a slot in the cart to
unlock it from the fleet of carts. When you bring it back, you lock
it back to the next cart and get your loonie back. Mark found some
mechanical things he needed for his trailer, and Dave bugged the
glass repair guy until he finally agreed to come out and fix his
windshield. So, today is a down day. Tomorrow we will do some more
sightseeing in Whitehorse before departing from the Alaska Highway to
go to Dawson City and the Top of the World highway.

We crossed the crest of the road at Summit, where the view was
supposed to be of far mountain ranges, all blue and white with snow.
Instead we got fog so thick we were tiptoeing up the road.

To soothe our feelings for missing out on the scenery, we stopped at
the Tetsa River Services and Campground because they advertised
themselves as the Cinnamon Bun Center of the Galactic Cluster. Oh,
my goodness they were delicious! Their cinnamon buns are now the
standard against which all other cinnamon buns will be judged. Ooey,
gooey, buttery, loaded with cinnamon – yes this is a real cinnamon
bun!

It was early afternoon when we reached Muncho Lake. The camping gods
smiled upon us and we got three lovely spots right next to one
another. Our windshields look right out on the lake, which is a
beautiful, glacial blue-green. We are staying two nights here
because Pam and I agreed that one of the few things we regretted
about our last trip was that we only spent one night at Muncho.

Day 9 – Muncho Lake, day 2

It's a beautiful day today. Blue sky and water like glass. We plan
a really stressful day. There was a morning walk down the lake edge
to the lodge, where the menu was still overpriced and the staff was
rude. Just like we remembered from last trip. Then there was an
excursion to find Stone Sheep, which was resoundingly successful
since they were entertaining passersby right next to the road. There
must be salt or some mineral they like beside the road because they
were licking the ground and not paying a whole lot of attention to
their adoring audience.

Judy and I painted a memory of Muncho Lake and then the clouds rolled
in and the breeze sprang up, so it was time for a mid-afternoon nap
to recover from all the wild activities. Gypsy is watching us from her perch in the front window.

Tuesday, June 13, 2017

We knew this was
going to be a short day. We got into Ft. Nelson by lunchtime, so we
had the pick of the best spots in the little RV park behind the Blue
Bell motel. Nothing special – just a flat gravel lot with a row of
spaces, but it was level and they had a laundry, so it was good
enough. There are lots of flowers around town. I guess when you
have long, dark winters, flowers are good, and you plant them any
place that has a spot for them.

We made the
mandatory stop at the local museum. Dave says every town with more
than 2 people has a museum. This one had old cars, and one of them
had a sign that Pam said fit Gerry:

I am old and
fragile. Please treat me with the respect I deserve. Please do not
sit in me, play with my buttons or abuse me in any way.

There was another mandatory Alaska Highway sign for a photo op.
Otherwise, this was a good stop to do laundry and get a few
groceries.

The day dawned
bright and sunny. At 4:30 AM. I must do something about that
skylight over the shower. The light shines right in my eyes and at
4:30 it's highly offensive!

It was a nice day
to start our trek on the official Alaska Highway. Some of the views
were spectacular, especially as we reached the crest of the highway
overlooking the Peace River valley. I keep thinking about the
soldiers who built this roadway. No one had any idea what they were
facing, and I'm sure there was some colorful language when they
pushed their way through the spruces and mud just to see this
enormous dropoff facing them with a wide, rushing river at the bottom
of it. The grades down the hill were 8 to l0%!

We made a stop at
the little town of Taylor to check out the Visitor Center and shake
out some of the kinks. There were some pretty good crosswinds to
fight, so it was nice to take a rest. The town of Taylor was founded
in 1912 by a farmer/trapper and his family. There was anther family
near them named Barker. Taylor put up signs announcing the town of
Taylor Flat. Barker didn't like this, so when Taylor left on his
trapping rounds, Barker would tear down the Taylor Flat signs and put
up Barker Flat signs. This feud went on until the Post Office came
to town and Taylor gave them a piece of his farm to put up the
building, thus winning the fight to name the town.

We ended the day
at Buckinghorse River Provincial Park, a lovely, quiet park by the
small river. The mosquito spray came in very handy!

Monday, June 12, 2017

Rain. Rain,
rain, rain. The clouds were so low that sometimes we were driving in
them. If we hadn't driven this road before, we would have had no
idea that there are spectacular views of the Canadian Rockies to be
seen. All we saw was clouds. The road work turned out to be a
non-event. As we rolled up to the one lane section, Gerry tried to
stop for the flagger but he kept waving us over into the through
lane, so we just rolled through like there was nothing there. And on
through the rain and clouds we went. The Pine River, which we
crossed several times, was high and rushing and fierce.

We camped at Mile
0 RV park in Dawson Creek. It was slightly less of a mud hole than
the other parks we passed looked like. Since it was still cold and
rainy, we toured the Alaska Highway House, a small museum about
building the highway. I knew it had to have been hard, but I had no
idea how impossible the conditions were. Mud, mosquitoes,
permafrost, bitter cold and hot dust – they had it all in a
trackless, densely forested wilderness. It was an amazing
accomplishment.

We got the
mandatory photos at the original Mile 0 monument even though it was
still grey and spitting rain. After dinner the sun made an
appearance so we dashed over to the large monument and got photos
there.

We are off on the
official Alaskan Highway on Monday. I suspect we will be out of cell
service for a couple of days.

has a
Saturday farmers' market, so we started our morning there. There
wasn't much farming going on this early in the year, but we found
wonderful pottery and pie, and did our part to help the local
economy. We drove up to Prince George, and after a slightly
adventurous detour, found the big Tourist Information office, which
wasn't nearly as big and comprehensive as Pam and I remembered from
years past. The most worthwhile thing we learned there was that the
road to Dawson Creek had a landslide and was closed south of
Chetwynd.

So we have stopped short of there at Whiskers Point, where
we are camping in the deep, dark woods. I think there may be trolls
or bigfoots (bigfeet?) wandering through the forest. Hopefully the
road will be open tomorrow.

Friday, June 9, 2017

Yesterday we traveled from Lytton,
through 100 Mile House to Williams Lake. At the100 Mile House stop we enjoyed
some bird watching at the nature preserve beside the Tourist Information center. The town got its name
during the Cariboo gold rush in the 1860’s. A wagon road carried the gold
seekers and all the provisions to the gold fields, with stage stops along the
way, cleverly named 50 Mile House, 70 Mile House, 100 Mile House and so forth.

We have caught up with Spring as we
travel north. There are lilacs and wild roses blooming all along the
highway.

We stayed at the rodeo grounds in
Williams Lake. It’s the home of the Williams Lake Stampede and feels very much
like any western town that emphasizes the cowboy lifestyle.

Today we drove all the way to the town
of Queznel (pronounced Kew-nel), all of 74 miles. Our first stop was to find Ken, a guy that that Gerry and Dave had met
last winter in Yuma while they were all soaking in the hot tub of the RV park.
He made the mistake of telling them we should stop in and say “hi” when we came
through Quesnel. We took him up on his offer and after a nice visit with him,
we left our RVs at his business and drove to the historical park of
Barkersville. On the way there, we saw our first moose of the trip. She was
near the road, wading in a bog and eating water weeds.

Barkersville was founded during the gold
rush of 1862 by a gold miner named Billy Barker. In its heyday, Barkersville
was said to be the largest city west of Chicago and north of San Francisco.
Those glory days lasted until the gold ran out and a fire destroyed most of the
town. Now it’s a restored Heritage Site with all kinds of displays, shops, and
activities, including a cast of characters representing people who lived and
worked in Barkersville over the course of years.

Here we are, ready to start our
adventures in Barkersville.Some of the other visitors on a tour got
into the spirit of things and donned period costumes.

We might have stayed longer except it
was cold, grey and muddy. We felt like we got a good sense of what it was like
to live in a mining town where spring comes late and unwilllingly. So we headed
back to Quesnel, and on the way we met our first bear of the trip. He was a
little black bear, munching on flowers and grass beside the road. I think I
have a picture of his relative from the last trip up here. The bear then had
that same expression: “What? I’m eating here. Quit bothering me.”

Tonight we’re staying at the Airport
Motel and RV park. There’s an airport?